


A "Theory"

by scullyitsme



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dana Scully Is Overwhelmed By Her Capacity To Love & Also Her Persistent State of Arousal, Dialogue-Only Challenge, Gen, In Which Mulder Knows All Of Scully's Little Details, In Which Scully Rationalizes Away Her Sexual Stirrings, Intellectual Intercourse, Mulder & Scully Fuck After This Conversation, Mulder Is A Funny Soft Cute Boy & I Love Him, This Might Be A Missing Scene From 'all things', Tumblr Challenge, XFChallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 08:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10330298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullyitsme/pseuds/scullyitsme
Summary: "Maybe I’d convinced myself that things could never change. That what exists between us is some kind of inviolable constant."*For the xfchallenge: ~dialogue only~ on tumblr!*





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the xfchallenge: ~dialogue only~ on tumblr! This maybe takes place post 'all things'? It's basically meant to be whenever they had sex for the first time which I always believed was 'all things' but then this fandom fucked me straight up on THAT timeline and now I don't know.

“Mulder, we need to talk. I’ve perceived some changes in our interpersonal dynamic and I think we’ve let them run a little wild. Should they begin to impact our professional relationship —”

“Scully, can I just—? You asked me for my _sperm_ to have a _baby_ with. That’s _beyond_ the call of duty for an FBI partner. I mean — I’m sure there’s a clause about giving you platelets or bone marrow or _a kidney_ , but to my knowledge, there’s nothing in the fine print about sperm donation. If you think things have — _or_ _are_ — changing between us, I’d just like to take a moment to suggest a probable cause.“ 

“I think we just need to take a step back and examine it.”

“For _what_ —? Evidence? Flaws?”

“I think we need to be realistic.”

“About—?”

“Our partnership.”

“Ok. You wanna elaborate here,Scully? Or do I need to buy a vowel?”

“That night you brought me here after I shot — after Orison. We both slept in your bed.”

“Yes, we did. And nothing happened. We slept. I offered to take the couch, but you asked me to stay.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And after my mother died, you stayed with me that night and we — I don’t think we slept much. I know I didn’t. But we spent part of the night then, too — and nothing happened.”

“I know. But then, after the Amber Lynn LaPierre case. When you found… after you saw —”

“ _Samantha,_ you can say her name, Scully. Jesus. It won’t conjure her up. Trust me, I tried that for years to no avail.“ 

"I’m sor—”

“Look, Scully, _I’m_ sorry — but I don’t understand why you’re replaying our Greatest Hits here. So we shared a bed, or a couch, or comforted each other. Maybe that’s out of the realm of professional boundaries but _goddamn_ _it Scully_ —  after all these years, all we’ve seen, all we’ve _suffered_ — wouldn’t our friendship warrant that kind of — I don’t know, _support_? _Affection_ , even? Scully, if … if you were insulted, or you felt like I was trying to… if you thought I was putting the moves on you or something …I mean _Jesus_ _._ I’m sorry. If I ever made you uncomfortable or — I mean you asked me to stay, that first night, so I did. If you’d changed your mind, I would have slept on the couch. I wouldn’t have been angry. I just wanted to do what you needed or wanted me to do. And the other times — I mean it felt — the embracing, the comforting — it felt consensual. If it wasn’t — I mean _fuck_ _it to hell_ — I just — Scully, I would _never_ —”

“Mulder, stop. I know. You didn’t. You never…it wasn’t uncomfortable at the time. It was _after_ , when I was thinking about it. That we — _that I_ — kept letting it happen.”

“Were you mad that you let it happen — or were you mad that you didn’t mind that it happened? That maybe, you’d even wanted it to happen?”

“I don’t.  .honestly, Mulder, I don’t know anymore.”

“When you asked me about the IVF, when I said yes, I told you I was afraid it would change things between us.”

“I know you did.”

“But you still —”

“I was being selfish.”

“Scully —”

“I wanted — I wanted _a baby_ _,_ Mulder. I wasn’t thinking rationally. Maybe I’d convinced myself that things could never change; that what exists between us is some kind of inviolable constant.“ 

"Maybe your belief wasn’t founded in any kind of rational thought. Maybe it wasn’t that you believe things couldn’t change, maybe it was just that the thought of things changing didn’t alarm you. Maybe on some level you wanted things to change." 

“I understood, intellectually, that asking you about the IVF — regardless of what you said — change things between us, Mulder. Practically it would have, certainly. But emotionally …How could I determine what would change in that regard when I didn’t — _when I don’t_ — know what the actuality was — _is_ — between us? Emotionally?”

“What do you feel you don’t know, Scully?”

“We’ve worked together for years. Both of us have faced very deep grief. I acknowledge that those facts have established a certain degree of intimacy between us but it’s not so much a _personal_ intimacy. It’s a _parallel_ intimacy, based in mutual experiences and spending a lot of time together in the same spaces. The fact that our partnership is changing and becoming something that feels so much more intimate — it’s just jarring to me, and it feels a little incongruous. Mulder, I don’t know you that deeply. Not the way that people come to know one another when they have that kind of relationship. And there are so many things that you don’t know about me.”

“You have your mother’s laugh, but you don’t laugh at the same things she does. You rarely worry about your younger brother — the one you never talk about — because every year you get a letter from him on _his_ birthday. You don’t tell your family about it, and I don’t think you’re protecting him. I think you’re protecting _them_. You know all the words to _Listen To The Music_ by The Doobie Brothers and you hum it — _a_ _lot_. For no discernible reason. It doesn’t bother me, but to be honest, I wouldn’t mind if you switched it up to _Long Train Running_ once in awhile. The books in your apartment aren’t alphabetized and it’s been driving me up the wall for _years_. I can’t figure out how you organize them. Not by author, or color, or subject…please, Scully, enlighten me now that we’ve brought it up. How are they organized? Release me from this categorical _hellscape_.”

“Date of publication. Oldest to most recent. That’s why several volumes of the same text aren’t next to one another.”

“Okay. Thank you. That makes perfect sense. Very practical, Scully. Just like you.”

“Mulder, this isn’t fair. You’re a profiler. This is what you _do_. You have the upper hand. And besides, this isn’t how normal people forge intimacy.”

“This is _exactly_ how people create intimacy, Scully. It’s noticing the little things and making connections, being able to identify a person from their minutia, being the only person who cares about the details. Knowing someone better than they know themselves, even. Profiling is just a more concentrated, intentional, and directed form of that.”

“…have you profiled _me_ , Mulder?”

“No. Not in the way you’re implying. I don’t have a _dossier_ on Dana Scully hanging around. But I _know_ you, Scully. I try to know you only as much as you want me to. But we’ve spent a lot of time together — just driving places we’ve probably racked up years. I know what I know about you, but maybe you’re right. I’m beginning to think maybe I don’t know anything about you at all.

“Mulder…I _want_ you to know me. And I want to know _you_. I’m just overwhelmed. I don’t know where to start, or what to say.”

“I think we’ve said enough.”

“I’m sorry, I –”

“Scully, _wait_. I think…there are things we can say without speaking. I don’t want you to leave. I just think that some nonverbal communication might be useful here.”

“Mulder — it’s just …it’s late and I haven’t…I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

“I can assure you I don’t care. Besides, I already know you don’t floss.”

“Wha— is it obvious—?”

“No. It’s just…of all the things you rag on me about — what I eat, how I sleep or don’t sleep, my proclivity for sustaining life-threatening injuries — you do it because you care about me, right? But you’ve never _once_ nagged me about flossing. So, through deductive reasoning I’ve inferred the following: Dana Scully, medical doctor, does not nag me about flossing or tout its scientifically vetted virtues. The only conceivable reason for her refraining would be to avoid appearing hypocritical. Ergo: she does not floss.”

“… for what it’s worth, there’s no research that proves flossing is effective. Dentistry presents a compelling narrative about the importance of flossing, but there’s no replicable, clinical research to back it up.”

“Scully…are you telling me that flossing is part of an elaborate conspiracy created by 9 out of 10 dentists? _Christ almighty_ — look, we gotta end this right now. Go home. I’ve corrupted you beyond salvation.”

“I’m not saying it’s a _conspiracy._ I just need proof.”

“Is that what this whole conversation has been about, Scully? _Proof?_  Do you really not know how I feel about you? How much I care about you?”

“Maybe I need to test my hypothesis.“ 

"Your prediction of a possible causal correlation among multiple observable phenomena between us?" 

"Something like that.”

“Might I submit the first piece of physical evidence for consideration?" 

"Is it replicable?" 

"As many times as it takes to substantiate a theory, Scully." 


End file.
